


Into the Dark

by aerlinniel



Series: The Red Years [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Freewood - Freeform, Historical, M/M, Mad King Ryan, Navy, One-Sided Relationship, Ryvin, Secret Crush, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1191858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerlinniel/pseuds/aerlinniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The navy had sunk after the defeat, and Gavin had unexpectedly found himself amongst those struggling to survive. He had no idea where his other friends were, but he had at least found the King whom he served. Alive and with his crown, somehow. It was his duty to make sure he survived now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Dark

I cling on to the piece of driftwood, praying for daylight. Darkness envelopes me, full of uncertainty and things unknown. Full of death, or rather, the opportunity of it. Rough and enraged waves crash onto my body, pulling me down into the dark blue that is the sea around me. I had seen the blue of the sea many times before, calm and collected, but certainly never in this way; with the wreck of a previously glorious marine slowly sinking, and with bodies floating and starting to sink around me. Never with this much vermilion permeating it, wasted barrels, or wet gunpowder. Never had I seen or heard any of this. I look up as thunder roars around me. Dark thick clouds cover the sky, and droplets of rain crash onto me. No moonlight can be seen in the sky.

 

Waves suddenly bury me beneath them, and salty water fills my mouth; gouging its way into my body and trying to fill it whilst I let go of the driftwood. The terror of asphyxia fills me, and I desperately kick my feet and try to get out into the surface again. I close my eyes and feel tears building up; practically feeling the irony within me. I don’t want to drown now, I want to at least see daylight one more time. I open my eyes and start kicking my legs, pushing my body upwards and towards the air. Moments pass, and I feel like bursting. Hell, my lungs hurt, and the only thing I really want is to breathe in. I control the need and instead keep pushing myself forwards, until I feel air around me again.

 

Silent gurgle, and I take in a huge and deep breath whilst coughing. I can feel air around me again; moist and cold, cutting and unforgiving. I feel like retching, and the only thing I’m sure of now is that I’m not beneath the waves anymore.

 

 _I’m alive; I, Gavin Free, am alive_.

 

I’m soon breathing in deeply yet again, a desperation and raggedness in my breaths which can only pertain to the almost drowned man. My hair sticks onto my skin, moisture and water oozing out of every inch of it, but I’m so cold that I can barely feel it. My clothes are in a similar state. Hell, I can barely tell if they’re the same colour anymore. I latch on to another piece of driftwood, heart beating fast and my mind fuzzily stopping me from completely registering what is going on around me. I can’t remember all the details; only that the fleet of the Mad King Ryan whence I served had sunk. Defeated in battle by that of the enemy. My friends had been there too, where were they now?

 

The realisation of the possibility that they’ve drowned along with thousands of others is petrifying, but I don’t let it get to me; I instead shake my head and latch even stronger onto the driftwood. I must survive. No, I _will_ survive. Memories slowly sink back into place, but I find myself focused on the colour of my soaked clothes.

 

_Green, my clothes had been green. They had had the design of a creeper imprinted on them too, and people had called me the King’s Creeper._

 

Seconds pass slowly, and I try to make out definite shapes out of the bodies of strangers around me; some disappearing into the dark abyss below us and some struggling to survive in the same way I am. The moans of the dying are everywhere, and they are practically the only thing I can hear. No joy or laughter, no screams or agony: just faint gurgling and silence. That, and the sound of the roaring ocean. Waves cover me again and pull me down, but I don’t sink; the driftwood doesn’t sink, not completely at least. Just enough to cover me with sea water. They are terrifying silhouettes, but I can’t possibly avoid them. The fearsome waves are everywhere. I retch once I’m back on the surface again, I don’t feel well. I just want to be back at court, back at home. Safe.

 

A sudden golden spark catches my attention. A golden light, in the midst of the blue-grey darkness, reaches me. Unbelievable. I look up, could it be daytime already? It is impossible; darkness still envelopes me. Thunder and waves are still there, as are the drowned and dead, and those who struggle to survive. What could it be then?

 

The golden flash, however, persists. Its light still reaching me, flashing every now and again at the rhythmic whims of the enraged ocean surrounding me. I waddle closer, curious, wanting to know what exactly is causing it. It must be close if I can see the occasional flash of gold; a few metres away, perhaps. The short distance turns into an impossibly large one in the darkness, but I miraculously manage to get close and closer whilst avoiding drowning; despite being submerged two or three more times. I cling onto the driftwood and survive; I survive like I was trained to do and like I had been doing all my life. Time that seems like hours passes by, but I know that it can only be seconds or minutes. Despite the fuzziness clouding every inch of my being I manage to get to whatever was emanating that light and keep myself alive. A feat in itself, perchance.

 

My eyes widen as I see the source. It was a crown, _the crown_. It is the crown that was always worn by the mad king, golden and full of spikes. An intimidating combination of twisted gold, iron, and gems of all colours. It is the crown of the king whom I serve, which miraculously remains somehow atop of the head of the person itself. In front of me is Ryan, King Ryan, miraculously atop of a floating piece of driftwood. Miraculously alive, and miraculously with his unique crown atop of his head. The piece of driftwood he’s on is larger than mine, and I quickly climb on top of it. I don’t even question what to do, as I immediately react and decide to see if he’s still alive. Protecting him is my priority, it is my duty; it is what I was commended to do as one of his personal guards and one of the people he trusted. One of the few people he trusts at all, if I think about it.

 

I finally let go of the piece of driftwood I had been clinging onto, small and torn as it is, and I focus instead on the man resting now besides me. He wasn’t moving at all, and I could see a faint trickle of scarlet flowing down from his leg. Blood, but most probably from a light wound. I shook my head, I needed to make sure that he was still alive. I gulp, and my fingers tremble as I reach out and touch the skin on his neck; trying to find the carotid and see if he had a pulse. He did. Faint and hard to detect, but it was there. The king was alive. I breathed with relief, glad to find him alive.

 

I then shout, trying to wake him up, but all that comes out of my throat is a rough croak. I close my eyes, feeling desperation sink in more deeply. I can’t even speak properly. It is only then though when I manage to catch his short and ragged breaths. Quiet and hard to detect yet again, but still there after all. ‘ _He is really alive’_ I think, calmer.

 

He was lying face down, but I had no idea what to do or how to ensure survival. I had never been prepared for this, had never been trained for what should be done in these cases. Perhaps Geoff, Ray or Jack would know what to do, but not me. I had the least chances out of all of them to survive, possibly. Yet I was with the king, and it was me who had to make sure that we both got out of here alive.

 

I look at him, noticing practically for the first time his lack of armour. Had he taken it off on his own already?

 

‘He probably did, to avoid sinking at the very least’ I thought.

 

I try to smile at my luck: if he wasn’t wearing it there were less chances of the metal causing us to sink. All that comes out is a grim twitch instead though. I didn’t even have the energy in me to smile anymore.

 

I focused again on Ryan, and looked for any wounds or serious injuries. He only had his underpants and a thin white shirt covering his chest, which translucently allowed me see his muscles and skin. Luckily though, he isn’t wounded. He was completely soaked though, and his wet hair stuck onto this face, hiding in that way his eyes and disguising his facial structure. If not for the crown I would have had a hard time identifying him from a distance. I decide to check on the trail of blood that I had seen before across his leg. I soon spot the wound, but it is small and doesn’t seem like much. Nonetheless, I tear a part of my soaked underpants to bandage it as best and tightly as I can. Better to make sure it’ll be okay.

 

The storm continued raging around us, rain crashing down on my skin and thunder covering the sounds made by both the survivors and dying alike. Waves carried the driftwood we were in at their whim, miraculously not washing us out of the piece of wood. I braced him, wrapping one of my arms around his back, trying to latch us both onto the wood. I did not want either of us to fall down. I held with the other onto the other end of the driftwood and then pressed as closely as I could to him, with as much skin as possible. He was ice-cold, and I felt like I needed to warm him up somehow. I adjusted the arm that was wrapped around his back so that instead of being over his shirt it was _under_ it. I managed to force a grim smile as I assured myself that this way there were more chances of survival.

 

Water washed over us, but I continuously managed to avoid being washed away. My breaths were ragged and I was unable to speak clearly, but the closeness between me and the king whom I served gave me a strange hope. My face was bare centimetres away from his, and despite the fact that I could feel nothing but cold in the areas where our skin touched, the warm breath that fell onto my mouth gave me hope. It was a strange feeling, albeit strangely pleasant despite the conditions and the situation. My heart beat fast, and for a moment I could only be aware of these two things.

 

_We would survive. I would make sure of it, it was a promise. No matter how long it took. He was my king, after all, and I his guard. I would see him live._

 

 

 

 


End file.
